"Sherlock." John greeted softly as the man appeared in the doorway, just as every other night when John arrived home from work.
"John." Sherlock nodded, as usual. Something was different, John noticed that Sherlock's eyes were different, and their usual shine wasn't there. He just looked dull and dead.
"What's wrong?" John asked instinctively as he dumped his bag down and walked over to Sherlock. Sherlock, as every other night avoided contact.
"Nothing. Actually yes. There is something. I have to leave soon, I have to go away."
"For how long?" John's throat was clogging, he'd already lost Sherlock once. He didn't want to lose him again.
"Forever." Sherlock swallowed hard.
"Where?"
"Just away." Sherlock was hesitant.
"You'll never come back?" Johns mood had seriously deteriorated.
"No." Sherlock shook his head.
"Why? Did I do something?"
"No. It's me."
"Tell me Sherlock. What did I do?" John angrily got up and strode towards Sherlock. Sherlock, keeping no contact got up and moved swiftly away.
"Why do you do that?" John moved quicker, this time he grabbed a Sherlock's shoulder, to keep him from moving. Johns hand went straight through him. "Wh-What's going on?" He looked a Sherlock with fear in his eyes.
Sherlock moved away. "John, when you leave for work I disappear. I never go out walking with you, I never go on cases anymore, I never leave this house and I'm only here when you are. You need to get over me. Move on. I'm not real."
John couldn't come to terms with what he was hearing. "No." John sat in his chair.
"I made the decision tonight to tell you that if you wouldn't let go of me then I'll leave anyway. I'm a figment of your imagination, I never did what you wanted when I was alive, so why do it now? I can't stay, this isn't good for you." Sherlock walked over to where john was sitting. "Goodbye, John." He repeated the last words he'd said to his best friend as he disappeared.
John was left sitting alone in his living room, rocking backwards and forwards, silent tears passed over his cheeks and rolled onto the carpet. "Sherlock." He kept whispering the name over and over. As if his name would keep him here.